


Closure

by HalfshellVenus



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Car Sex, Episode Tag, M/M, Slash, Wincest - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-05-12
Updated: 2012-05-12
Packaged: 2017-11-05 05:10:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,265
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/402780
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HalfshellVenus/pseuds/HalfshellVenus
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>(1x06, "Skin" Coda) The aftermath of the encounter with Shapeshifter Dean.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Closure

**Author's Note:**

> This, back in early Season One, was my debut story as a Supernatural Slash writer. It's been a long, wonderful road since then.

~*~

They were in the car again, the Shapeshifter dead behind them, and Sam’s head was killing him.

He wasn’t so out of it that he didn’t notice Dean, hunched over the wheel and so rigid it looked like something was going to burst out of him any moment now. 

Something did.

“How could you let that thing kiss you?” Dean finally asked.

“It was a whole lot better than letting it beat me up,” Sam replied. Not that the creature hadn’t done that too—every couple of seconds, it seemed.

Dean looked at him. “But it was _me._ I mean, it looked like me. I mean—fuck. _Whatever._ You would never let me kiss you like that.” 

“I don’t exactly recall you trying,” Sam said. Did they have to have this conversation _now?_ Because he was really in the mood to pass out for awhile. Maybe for the rest of the day.

Dean gave him a look, and went back to brooding mode. “It’s not fair,” he vented. 

Sam had no idea _what_ he meant by that. “You do realize that it could have snapped my neck like a twig, right? And I’m feeling better now, by the way, thanks for asking,” he added.

“Aaugh!” Dean yelled in frustration. “Are you even getting the basic point here?”

“Probably not,” Sam said. “Maybe you can explain it to me later. After I’m done with the nervous breakdown and the healing.”

“You. Kissed. Him,” Dean ground out.

“Technically, I think he kissed me.”

“Whatever!” Dean was really exasperated now. “Did you even know that it wasn’t me?”

“You mean aside from the kissing part? Yes, Dean, I did know that. His eyes were glowing, and his mood swings were all over the map. Even you aren’t normally that big of an emotional spaz.” 

Dean just looked at him, and Sam sighed, sinking down against the seat. He put his head back, and started to drift. His skin hurt. Even his bones seemed to be throbbing.

“Did you like it?”

“What!?” _God, why in the hell was Dean still talking?_

“When he kissed you. Did you like it?” Dean asked again.

Sam rolled his eyes. “We are so not having this conversation,” he said.

“But I need to know,” said Dean.

“What, our family dynamic isn’t weird enough already? You want to add this into the mix?” Sam turned to glare out the window. “Not everything is about satisfying your curiosity, Dean.”

The car was suddenly turning off, and Dean was across the seat with his mouth on Sam’s before he even realized that the car had stopped.

Sam froze for a second, totally unprepared. For a moment, he thought he might have fallen asleep after all.

Then he found himself coming alive under that kiss, his lips caressing Dean’s, his mouth opening to him. This was so much better than kissing Demon Dean. He would never have dared to think about it before today, but if he had, he couldn’t have imagined that it would be this good. It was hot and hungry, and just felt so shockingly right. _Damn, we’re in trouble,_ Sam thought, but he didn’t stop.

He coaxed his tongue between Dean’s lips, stroking slowly until Dean moaned and melted against him. God, now _that_ was hot. He had never fathomed Dean doing anything like that. Dean was always the one seducing the women they met, always pushing his will on them with his charm. With all the many women he persuaded, Dean was always the one in control.

But feeling him succumb now to the passion between them—it was outrageously sexy. Sam unsnapped his seatbelt, and leaned slowly until Dean was lying back on the seat while Sam straddled him and ravaged his mouth. Dean’s arms were around him, one hand lost in Sam’s hair while the other slid up his back under his shirt. Sam hissed at the sensation of Dean stroking his bare skin with his fingertips, and thrust forward a little, biting Dean’s neck. Dean groaned again, bucking up against him, and when Sam caught his mouth again and tongued into him, he began to shake.

There were too many clothes, Sam thought dimly, and he started to push off Dean’s jacket and unbutton his shirt. At the sight of the exposed skin, he ducked down and ran his tongue up the side of Dean’s flat stomach and up to a nipple, sucking it in and nipping it gently. He glanced up at Dean, who thrashed lightly, eyes closed and cheeks flushed, biting his lip a little as Sam licked him again. Dean grabbed at Sam’s shirt, and Sam leaned back a moment to pull it off, forcing down a groan at the jarring pain that wrenched across his back. But then Dean’s hands were all over him, caressing his skin, pulling him back down again. 

The dark look in Dean’s shining eyes nearly undid Sam, and he dropped down to lick and suck at Dean’s neck again, body rubbing against his slowly and wickedly as Dean began to gasp.

Dean’s hands were at his waist, struggling to undo Sam’s jeans. Sam stopped to help him, pulling them down and off along with his boxers and shoes. He unbuttoned Dean’s jeans, sliding them down just far enough to drag the boxers below his hips and pounce. “Sammy!” Dean cried out, as Sam’s mouth enveloped him and drove a wave of lust through his brain like a spike. He groaned, his head tilting back, as Sam teased and tortured him with his tongue. His hands found Sam’s hair, fondling his head and shoulders while he gasped almost painfully. Sam worked a hand underneath Dean, rubbing that spot just underneath while sucking harder. Dean thrust into his mouth and came explosively, yelling Sam’s name and writhing under him as though he were on fire.

“God, Sammy,” he gasped out a moment later, and he pulled Sam’s head down to rest against his stomach, stroking his hair with an affection Sam hadn’t felt in years. Sam lay there, feeling Dean’s pulse against his cheek and caressing his hip, breathing in Dean’s musky heat. 

When Dean was able to move again, he tugged under Sam’s arms and urged him upward, bringing his head down for a surprisingly tender kiss. Dean embraced him lovingly, kissing him gently and thoroughly, and looking into his eyes with a kind of wonder.

Sam’s heart clenched, and then just seemed to let go of whatever it had been holding back. He felt himself drifting in a kind of bliss, deeper and more profound than the lust that had overtaken him before. 

This was what he wanted most, more than anything in the world, and he had never admitted it to himself before this day. This was the beginning point of all his underlying feelings for Dean—the desire to be accepted, loved, understood, _welcomed._ It was almost dizzying, experiencing all of these things at once, and he let his entire being relax into the sensation of being absolutely adored. This was something he had no prior understanding of, no words to even have hoped for. It was like _coming home,_ when home was the one thing he’d never had. 

Apparently, home was Dean. How could he not have known that before?

Dean brought his fingers up to their mouths, wetting them and then reaching down to stroke Sam. He did it again, making Sam slicker and harder, and eased his own pants and boxers down much further as Sam lifted to help him. Dean pushed him down a little toward the seat, positioning him, and lifted his knees around Sam.

Sam broke off the kiss as he realized what Dean was up to. “Dean,” he said hoarsely, “I don’t know how to do this.”

“You’ll figure it out,” Dean whispered. “I’m pretty sure you’ve got the general idea.”

“But are you sure you want this?” Sam asked. “What if I hurt you?”

“I _know_ I want this,” Dean said. “It feels right, somehow. It’ll be okay,” he reassured him. 

Sam let Dean maneuver him, kissing him all the while, until he was inside and just waiting. He let Dean breath for a moment, getting used to him, and stroked him a little, hoping to draw him into it from both sides. He moved slowly within him, until he heard Dean moan softly, and moved again until he was sure those sounds meant something good.

He leaned down to reach under Dean, lifting him a little to bring them together as he kissed him, and their arms came around each other. 

This holding and being part of Dean, it was like finding completion. He brought a hand down, grasping Dean’s hardness, and stroked him off as he neared his own climax. His head came up, and he choked out, “Oh God, Dean” as he spilled inside him. He kissed him ravenously, feeling Dean’s lips tremble as he started to come, and swallowed Dean’s moans with his mouth. 

Afterwards, they gasped against each other for a moment, starved for air, and then Dean was collapsing backwards with Sam on top of him.

Sam ran his fingers across Dean’s face, kissing him softly and feeling Dean’s quiet happiness. This was an entire side he had never seen of his brother, had never known existed. 

He suddenly wanted desperately to own this part of Dean, to never lose track of it again. 

He honestly had not thought it was possible to make Dean truly happy. Or that he would be the one to do it. 

He smiled down at him, for once letting everything show on his face and holding nothing back. “I love you, Dean,” he said. “You should never have doubted that.”

Dean’s face got a little sad, suddenly. “I used to think I knew that. Until you left. And then I thought I didn’t know anything anymore.” His smile was not a happy one. “I’ve kind of been in a holding pattern these last few years. Following Dad around, doing what we do, but not really feeling like I was the one doing it.”

He looked at Sam, completely serious for once. “I guess I was just waiting for you to come back. Or for me to get killed by something we were hunting. It didn’t seem to matter much which, at that point.”

“You don’t still feel that way now, do you?” Sam was appalled. Dean had always joked his way out of anything emotional or heavy. He never thought he would take anything to heart.

“I felt that way when I saw that thing kiss you, that’s for sure,” Dean said softly. “I thought I might die right then just watching it. It was like I was being eaten alive by all the love I was keeping hidden from you and wanted from you, and that monster was just _taking it._ It never had to worry about hurting you, or that you might say no—it just took what it wanted. What I wanted.” He sighed. “I think I killed it out of jealousy more than anything else.”

“Well,” said Sam. “It might have kissed me. But it wasn’t who I wanted to kiss me. It all just… made me wish it was you, and I knew it never would be.”

“Hmmm,” Dean smiled suddenly. “College boy doesn’t know everything.” 

Sam laughed. “What, your paranormal research saw this coming? Give me a break.” He ran a fingertip across Dean’s lips. “So, what next?”

“Next time, I let you try it from this side. It was way more intense than anyone ever said.”

“You mean you haven’t done this before? What, you just took it all on faith?”

“Dude,” Dean laughed. “Taking things on faith is what we do. It’s worked pretty well so far. Besides,” he smirked a little, “would you be happier if I _had_ done this before, with someone else?”

“No!” said Sam.

“I didn’t think so.” Dean ran his hands over Sam’s back. “So, you want to freeze out here in the car all night, or do you want to get a room?”

“Heh—you said _get a room,_ ” Sam teased, like he was twelve.

“Hey, I was just thinking about how terrific you’re going to feel tomorrow after you’ve slept on all those sore spots and bruises. Maybe I could poke them a little more, make waking up _really_ worthwhile for you.” 

“Okay, I see your point,” Sam said. He reached down for his shirt again, which was no less painful going back on than coming off, and handed Dean’s over. He got the rest of his clothes back on, a little stiffly, and helped Dean with his jacket. 

Sam hated himself for it, but he had to ask the awkward question that was hanging in the air. “So, what are we supposed to do about this tomorrow? Forget it all happened?”

Dean’s face froze. “You wouldn’t,” he said. Sam caught a glimpse of fear in his eyes, feeling it in himself as well.

Sam smiled reassuringly. “No, I wouldn’t,” he said softly. He patted Dean’s shoulder. “I don’t want that anymore than you do.”

“Okay, then,” Dean said. “Good.” He started the car and flipped the lights on. He shoved some Aerosmith into the tape deck, and eased the car out onto the road again.

“We’ll drive up to the next town and find a motel,” he said. He looked at Sam out of the corner of his eye, a slightly wicked smile forming. 

“I’m going to book us a single.”

 

_\-------- fin --------_


End file.
